


Sea Glass and Whale Bone

by SkeletalConstellation



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Growing Old, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Memories, Old Friends, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirate has a lot of baggage at this point, Pirate is hurting deep down, Pirates, Pre-Canon, Reconciliation, Repressed Memories, Reunions, Salt is old and sad, Salt thinks pirate is dead and he's technically not wrong, Sea Monsters, Temporary Character Death, brief mentions of pirate-typical abuse, let me indulge in two old ocean dads finding eachother again ok, like historically pirates were kinda dicks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 06:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkeletalConstellation/pseuds/SkeletalConstellation
Summary: All alone and reaching his twilight years, Salt Cookie makes an unexpected reunion.Memories long forgotten are brought to light, and the old mariner is left to face them head on, for one question remains unspoken:Can love still stand in the face of death?





	1. No Siren's Song was Sweeter.

**Author's Note:**

> Wooooooooow okay okay I'm still working on my other fics I just?? fell in love with this one ship???????? it's so good, so of course I gotta ruin it by making everyone sad. Hope you enjoy, this one will probs be about 5 chapters long maybe.
> 
> The first chapter is gonna be very short, but the other's won't! This is just an introduction it'll get longer!

Salt Cookie sat at his usual table in the dusty tavern, nursing his pint quietly. The days seemed to be getting shorter, grayer, duller in every respect, a certain monotony slowly fading in over the old mariner's life.

He wondered when the monotony had started. He hadn't noticed it creeping in until it was already here, smothering him like a thick fog on a freezing cold day. Maybe it was the routine of this town. Maybe it was the lack of success finding the Jelly Kingfish.

Maybe it was he fact that the man who had brought color to his world now rested on the sea floor, taken from him in an instant.

No, no... He didn't have time to think of  _him._ He was gone- he had been gone for countless years now. There was no point in thinking of him.

 

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

 

Salt glowered down into his drink as someone burst through the doors, heavy, uneven steps shaking the very building ever-so-slightly. "Innkeep!" The stranger boomed merrily, his general  _loudness_ making Salt grumble into his beer. "A mug o' yer finest ale!"

Salt avoided looking at the man- in the fisherman's books, he was just a nuisance newcomer, yet to fall prey the smothering dullness of the small seaside town. If he stayed (Which Salt doubted he would) he'd slowly sink into his place in the background, just like everyone else here.

However, his attempts to avoid interacting with the newcomer were thwarted when said newcomer insisted on taking his ale and marching, in his strange, limping way, over to Salt's table, setting his mug down with an enthusiastic clatter.

Salt stared down in his drink, still strongly believing despite the evidence that if he just ignored the man, he'd go away. A long moment passed, then another, before he sighed, thoroughly fed up. "What do you want from me?"

"Is that anyway to talk to yer old friend," the stranger chuckle, voice dropping to a normal volume- and finally Salt heard it. His peculiar accent. the tone and cadence of that voice. It was rougher now, and deeper, worn with age and years apart but still undeniably  _his voice._

Salt looked up, eyes wide, at a face he thought he'd never see again. True, it now had a mustache and was missing an eye, and sure, age and the sea had weathered it, but just like his voice, his face was undeniably  _his._

"... Pirate Cookie..." Salt whispered, slowly rising from his seat out of pure disbelief. Pirate grinned, that heart-stopping grin that had stolen his soul all those years ago. 

"The one an onl- " Pirate started, before his boast was interrupted by the feeling of strong arms wrapped around his torso, Salt pulling his old friend into a bear hug, afraid that he'd disappear if he let go. Pirate returned the the hug with a chuckle, mindful not to stab the fellow mariner with his hook. 

"You're supposed to be dead," Salt growled into Pirate's bushy hair, gripping him like a vice.

Pirate chuckled sadly, patting Salt on on the back with his good hand. "... In all the 'onesty a pirate can give ye, Salt... Ye ain't wrong about that. But... it is a long story, and not one for the public's ear if ye catch me drift."

Salt nodded, confused over that but understanding the need for privacy. "It can wait... We have a lot to catch up on, old friend."

"Indeed we do, matey... indeed we do." 


	2. The Sea Dog and the Ship Rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years ago, still in his youth, Salt finds himself on board a strange ship, watched over by an even stranger cabin boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a few decades in the past! Pirate is 19-20ish, salt is 24-25ish.

“Hey! Are ye still alive?”   
  
Salt slowly opened his eyes, skin crusted with sea salt that itched and stung his flesh. The world was still blurry and out of focus, the young mariner still returning to consciousness. His senses returned to him one by one- the darkness of the place he was in, the sound of wood creaking as it was carried by an unseen sea, the soreness that overtook every muscle of his body.   
  
The fisherman sat up with a groan, taking in his situation more thoroughly. From what he could gather, he seemed to be in the belly of a large ship, inside what he assumed was its brig, given that he was behind bars. His clothes were stiff with salt and sea-grime, adding to the discomfort he was already feeling. He noted that his wounds had been bandaged, albeit somewhat haphazardly.    
  
There was also a boy in front of him, watching him closely with eyes bright with curiosity.   
  
The boy- man? Salt didn't know, Salt reasoned he couldn't be much older than 19 years of age- smiled at him, holding out what appeared to be hardtack for the fisherman. "Ahoy there! Thought ye might be a dead man after all ye've been through, good to see you're still kicking! Here, have some of this," the lad chirped, shoving his hand with the hardtack through the bars of the brig.    
  
Salt looked at the extremely stale bread with slight disgust- he much preferred his previous diet of raw fish over hardtack- but took it, taking as much of a bite as he could. Beggars can't be choosers, and if anyone was deserving of the 'beggar' title right now, it would be him. He only got a little ways through the bread before giving up and setting it down on the ground next to him. "Where are we?"   
  
"The Silver Prophecy," the lad replied with an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm. "Finest pirate ship this side of the seven seas!"   
  
"... Right. What am I doing here?"   
  
"Well... the captain was hoping ye could answer the same question, laddie. We found ye floatin' half-dead and clingin' to a log, so we pulled ye aboard," the boy explained,  scratching his head- Salt wondered how effective that was given the guy's thick head of bushy hair.   
  
Salt sighed, taking a moment to dust off some of the sea salt crystals clinging to his skin. "I've been at sea for months now, if you must know. The recent storm must have capsized my fishing boat."

The boy's eyes grew wide with curiosity, before remembered something, chuckling in embarrassment. “Oh, where are my manors t'day, I forgot to introduce meself… Pirate Cookie is the name, and piracy is the game!” 

He held out a hand through the bars, salt hesitantly taking it. When he did, he could feel old scars and thick calluses peppering Pirate's palm- the kid couldn't have had an easy life, even despite his youthful nature. “... Salt Cookie. You did mention this was a pirate ship, did you not?”

Pirate nodded as enthusiastically as he did everything else. “Yep!  An’ a fine one too- there isn't a finer craft on the sea today.”

“I'd ask if this was  _ your _ ship, but I believe you've already told me it had a captain.”

More nodding. “Oh yes! Captain Black Liquorice!  Quick as a whip and mean as a shark, he is! As for me… I'm just a cabin boy, but someday I hope to have a ship of my very own!” 

Ah. Pirate was the ambitious type. That made sense- the guy's enthusiasm was probably fed by his future plans.

“Huh. One last thing, why am I locked up-”

“RUM! Get back here!”

Pirate flinched, glancing behind himself and then back to Salt. “Sorry, gotta go. I'll be back, Salty!”

Before Salt could respond, Pirate- or Rum, he now wasn't sure- had rushed off, leaving him alone below the deck, wondering just what kind of mess he got himself into this time. 


	3. Within the Belly of a Wooden Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salt gets to know Pirate during his imprisonment on the Silver Prophecy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying something a little different with this chapter! I've been considering incorporating certain multimedia aspects into this fic (I'm an artist as well as a writer) so I thought I'd test it out here. Hope you enjoy!

“Salt! I brought ye grub!”

Salt grumbled, unfurling from the little ball he had been sleeping in and stretching his aching bones, listening to them crack and pop with his movement. Pirate carefully handed him a bowl of stew, which, to Salt's relief, looked much more appetizing than the hardtack. “Eat up, ye gotta get stronger, be able to make yerself useful around here!”

Salt furrowed his brow, confused. “What do you mean by ‘make myself useful’, Pirate?”

“Well, ye got to pull yer weight ‘round here, or the captain'll stop feedin' ye,” Pirate responded, shrinking just a little under Salt's ensuing glare. “I'm sorry, Salt, I don't make the rules… don't shoot the messenger, hehe.”

“So you kidnap me, keep me locked up, then expect me to do work for you?” Salt growled, eyes burning holes through Pirate's soul. If looks could kill, the cabin boy would be pushing up daisies. 

Pirate steeled his nerves, taking a deep breath- he looked genuinely nervous, and Salt was reminded that the guy was still very young. “W-well… how the captain sees it, we saved ye from the merciless ocean and nursed ye back to health… so in his eyes, ye owe him a debt.”

Salt would argue back, but he stopped himself, realizing that doing so would only scare away the only human contact he had so far. "Fine, just... Can I ask you a few questions first?"

“Ask away, though I can't guarantee an answer,” Pirate chirped, flashing his signature grin, seeming to instantly forget his fear towards Salt. “Though, I would suggest eatin’ that soup before it gets cold- you look like ye need a good meal in ye.”

Almost on cue, Salt’s stomach growled, and he looked down at his uneaten stew. He sniffed it- well, it had an  _ interesting _ aroma… hesitantly, he took a bite. 

Pirate watch Salt practically inhale the rest of the soup, desperately scraping the bowl for every last drop. “Wow, didn't think the cook was  _ that  _ good. I'm guessin' ye haven't had a hot meal in a long time.”

“Monfs,” grumbled Salt, mouth still full. “Monfs of nuffin’ bu’ raw fish ‘n’ kelp”

Pirate’s eyes lit up as he mentally added that to the list of things he knew about the lost fisherman. Salt finally noticed something in them that starving, delirious Salt hadn’t.

“Strange…” he mumbled, swallowing and leaning closer to look at them better. “You’re odd-eyed.”

Pirate’s smile widened to a point that Salt was convinced couldn’t be natural. “I sure am, Salty!” the cabin boy grinned, pulling the lid of his left eye down so Salt could really see it.

Unlike the deep brown of Pirate’s right iris, his left was an icy blue, almost white with how pale its hue was.   

Its ghostly shade made Salt shudder in spite of himself, thoroughly unsettled by its oddness. “I've never seen anyone with that eye color before.”

“Me mother used t' call it me lucky eye,” Pirate boasted, leaning back a little. “Said it meant I was destined for something grand, it was. I mean, between you and me, the old maid was a bit off her rocker, bless her soul…”

Salt listened to him ramble for a bit, before remembering that he was supposed to be asking Pirate the questions, not the other way around. “I still need some things cleared up, Pirate,” he interjected, stopping the cabin boy's ramble. 

“Oh, yes! Sorry, me thoughts have a habit of running away. What do ye want to know?”

“First of all-” Salt gestured to the cell around him, “-why am I locked up?”

Pirate chuckled nervously, looking away from the mariner. “Ah, hehe, sorry ‘bout that… Captain Liquorice is very paranoid… he knows his crew are loyal to him ‘til the bitter end, but yer a stranger, so he wanted t' make sure ye didn't try to stab him in his sleep or anything…”

Although it was… frustrating, Salt did suppose it made sense- rescuing a complete stranger couldn't have been without risks. “Alright, then… do you happen to know where my harpoon might be? It's very important to me, and I would be loathe to lose it.”

Pirate thought about it for a second, then aha'd and rushed off, returning with the weapon held gingerly in his hands. “Would this be it?”

Salt breathed a sigh of relief, reaching for it- and watching in dismay as Pirate pulled it away, back towards himself. “Ah- sorry, I can't exactly… give this back to ye yet. Not until the captain says so.”

Salt sighed, slumping against the bars gloomily. Pirate looked down at the weapon, saddened by Salt's disappointment. “Aw, Salty… I'm sure ye'll get it back soon enough, don't worry yerself… hows about I put this somewhere safe, and you can ask me the rest of yer questions, eh?”

Salt nodded, still feeling a bit of despair- that harpoon had kept him alive all these many months at sea, and not having it with him was a blow to his sense of pride and freedom. Pirate shot him a sympathetic glance, before disappearing for a moment, returning empty-handed. "Alright... what do ye want to know?"

"Well..." Salt thought carefully about his words- even though the cabin boy seemed friendly enough, he couldn't fully trust him- hell, he couldn't trust any pirate. "Yesterday, when you were called onto the deck, they called you 'Rum'. Why is that,  _Pirate?"_

Pirate looked away, smile sinking from genuine to nervous. "Well... Pirate's what me father called me, an' it's the name that suits me best, methinks. But, me father wasn't there when I was born, and me mother, may she rest peacefully, christened me Rum. Bless her heart, she hoped I wouldn't follow in me old man's shoes."

He blew a strand of his wild hair out of his eyes, slumping down melodramatically, not unlike a scolded toddler. "When I told 'em I wanted to be called 'Pirate', the crew just laughed. 'The _cabin boy's_ name is  _Pirate'_ , they says. 'Little Rummy think he's worthy of the name  _Pirate_!" 

Salt felt a twinge of pity for the young man- it sounded like the crew was not the kindest bunch of rogues to sail the ocean. Pirate suddenly looked up, a spark of determination in his mismatched eyes. "I swear to ye, Salt, I am going to become the greatest pirate to ever sail the seven seas! Then we'll see who's laughing! I'll show them all what this cabin boy's really made of!"

Salt blinked, taken aback by Pirate's rapid change of mood, then sighed, closing his eyes for a second. "I dream of a world that no longer needs pirates," he muttered quietly, lying back onto the wooden floor. "then us lawful mariners can finally gets some peace on these waters."

When Pirate didn't answer him, Salt looked up, seeing the young man giving him a hurt glare that stung Salt's heart. "Why would I care what ye think?" Pirate growled, injury bleeding into his tone. "Yer just some weirdo fisherman, anyways."

Salt sighed, sitting up. "Look, I didn't mean to offend-"

Pirate stood up, walking away like a scolded child. "I think I hear the captain calling," he huffed, storming towards the ladder. "I have to go."

Salt regretted driving away his only company as the hatched closed, leaving him alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of this little experiment? Leave your thoughts in the comments, and if you liked this leave a kudos!


	4. 'Twas a Dark and Stormy Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a storm, Salt finally understands what it means to be lowest on the pecking order of the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _This fic is tagged "Pirate-typical abuse" for a reason, you've been warned- historically, pirates were kinda dicks. Don't worry, Pirate Cookie is not the dick in this situation._  
>  Also no doodle this chapter, might be more in future chapters though!

Salt would be the first to admit that his old single-person sailboat was much different than the huge pirate ship he was now on. 

It was a stormy evening, and the captain had called hands on deck- which included Salt. A crew member had unlocked the brig, pretty roughly pulling the fisherman to his feet and practically dragging him onto the deck. 

Salt, having been on a smaller craft for months before this, was admittedly embarrassed of the difficulty he found in keeping his balance as he assisted in keeping the ship afloat. His sailboat had been rocky, yes, but he could control how it moved with his own movements. On this ship, he was at the mercy of the huge craft's bobbing and rocking, his own body weight doing nothing to help keep it balanced. 

He kept an eye out for Pirate, but the cabin boy was nowhere to be found. Salt felt a strange disappointment- ever since he'd accidentally insulted the man's dreams, he'd gotten nothing but the cold shoulder. Conversation had been limited to one-word greetings when Pirate came in to give him food, and complete silence when he checked on Salt's wounds. He hoped he could actually apologize for his words- he may have been alone on the seas before, but only after this silent treatment did he feel lonely. 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize how close to the rails he was, or that a larger wave was about to toss the ship. 

He stumbled back, crashing into the rail and desperately trying to regain his balance as he started to topple over it- when a strong hand grabbed him by the front of his shirt, stopping his fall. 

“Watch yerself, Salty. Ye almost became fish food.”

Salt blinked, letting himself get hauled back on board by Pirate. 

The cabin boy crossed his arms, watching Salt carefully to make sure he recovered from the incident. Salt, in turn, took a few deep breaths to slow his rapidly beating heart. He mumbled a quiet “thanks”, still clearly shaken to the core. 

Pirate snorted a response, before he rushed away again, going off to help elsewhere and leaving Salt alone again. 

 

The ship made it through the storm, leaving the crew tired but content to live another day. Salt was shoved back in the brig, much to his chagrin- he could hear the crew above him enjoying their supper and sharing tales of the sea, while he was left alone, cold, and hungry. Had they forgotten about him so quickly? Even after he'd been forced to help keep this damned vessel afloat? 

A loud yelp dragged him out of his thoughts, coupled with an angry growl. 

“Please don't-”

“Ye eat more than yer share already, ye brat.”

Salt stole a glance towards the source of the commotion. 

One of the crew members had appeared at the porthole, dragging a very sorry-looking Pirate with him by either the hair or the ear- it was too far away for Salt to see clearly, but from the whimpering he could guess it was painful. 

The older man threw the younger into the belly of the ship, walking away without a second glance at the quivering cabin boy. “Stay down, Rum. Yer not winnin' this battle.”

With that, he was gone. 

Salt watched Pirate slowly sit up, trying his best to brush himself off and go back to normal. Salt could tell by his slow movements and frequent winces that he was hurt, and given the nature of the environment he assumed he was bruised and most likely scraped up. 

Sure enough, when Pirate sat up, there was patches of deep crimson on his palms. The man sighed, then licked his thumb, trying to wipe away the blood with little success. 

“I can help you, if you want me to.”

Pirate ignored him, still trying to deal with it himself. 

“Please, Pirate-”

“M'fine. Why do ye care, anyways?”

“Because I don't want you to lose a hand to infection. Now  _ please _ , let me see.”

Pirate tried to ignore him, but it only took him a couple moments to stand up with a sigh and walk over to the imprisoned man. He sat down in front of Salt and, without making eye contact, shoved his hands through the bars. 

Salt carefully looked over the wounds, deciding on the best course of action. One side was far worse than the other: not only did he have a skinned palm, the scrapes ran up his arm where he had fell on it. Salt swallowed, pulling a small flask he'd been given a couple days prior- thank the gods he wasn't a heavy drinker, there was still some booze left- and unscrewing the cap. “Do you have any cleanish cloth? It will make this easier.” 

Pirate glanced at Salt, then away again, gingerly untying a bandana from around his neck and handing it to Salt. Salt thanked him quietly, then doused it with the liquor. 

“Alright, this will sting-”

“Just get it over with.”

Salt fell silent, pressing the damp cloth to Pirate’s palm. Pirate grimaced, looking away from Salt, not wanting to watch him take care of it. 

Salt meticulously wiped clean all the scrapes, making sure no dirt remained in the small wounds. “Alright, let those be for a few minutes, they should scab over on their own…” he assured the young Pirate, looking up from his work.

Salt tried his best to swallow down his anger when he did. Although Pirate’s head was turned away he could see the beginnings of a bruise on his opposite cheek. “Pirate… please tell me this isn’t how they usually treat you.”

“So what if it is,” Pirate growled, looking further away from Salt, looking quite like a kicked dog. “Why should ye care anyways? I’m a pirate. Ye hate pirates.”

"I hate how pirates act," Salt shot back, concern growing in his voice. "I hate how they hurt good people! Good people like you!"

Pirate stiffened, then slowly turned his head ever-so-slightly. "Ye think I'm a good person?"

Salt saw the hurt in his eye, heard the quiet whimper hidden under his voice. "I do. Hell, I think you're the only good person on the ship, from what little I've seen."

Salt could have sworn he heard the cabin boy sniffle, his back still turned to him. "Thank ye, Salty... I needed that."

Salt found himself smiling for the first time in so very long.

"What are friends for?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it through this chapter, leave a comment and kudos if you enjyed, I love reading what you have to say!


	5. Watercolor Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salt and Pirate have a little chat and bond over their circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS DEAD???? so did I but here we are

Salt secured a rope, expertly tying a knot he knew would hold even in the wildest of storms. The crew had started making him work on deck after the last storm, and although he resented the forced labour, it did give him more opportunities to be around Pirate.

He had admit, he was a little shocked by Pirate's resilience and skill around the boat. Not only could he bounce back from cruel words and blows alike without faltering, he very obviously knew what he was doing. He thought the captain must have some personal vendetta against the young man- it was strange for someone so naturally adept at his job to rank so low in the ship's hierarchy.

That was, of course, not counting the cruelty he had witnessed against the young Pirate. Although he'd bounce back from anything the crew threw at him, and quickly too, the crew seemed to be unnecessarily hard on him- even he, a complete stranger and a prisoner, was treated better than one of their own.

 

His thoughts were cut short as pirate rushed up to him, grabbing the handrail to stop his momentum. “Ahoy, Salty! How're ye holding up?”

“As well as I can, given my circumstances,” Salt replied, staring back out at the horizon. “I do not think I'll be truly fully happy until I can get off this wretched ship.”

“Well, don't hold yer breath on that- In all likeliness we're prob'ly going to be on the sea fer a couple o' more weeks at _least.”_

Salt grumbled, looking up at the dusky sky. It was a clear night, and the stars were already starting to peak out of their hiding places, illuminating the sky with a smattering of crystalline wonder. “I don’t think I’ve ever been sick of being on the ocean until now. I long for my homeland, though I know it is long buried under the ocean.”

“Eh? Are ye from Atlantis or something?”

“Hm? Oh, no, my island was just flooded by a tsunami. It isn’t some fairy-tale place.”

Pirate leaned on the guardrail, interest sparkling in his mismatched eyes. “Flooded! Well blow me down- how did ye survive?”

“Simple,” Salt shrugged, counting the stars. “I hopped on a boat and sailed towards the stars. I brought with me a harpoon and my wits, and with those tools I kept myself alive for many moons- until your crew picked me up after my boat capsized."

"That couldn't have been  _it,"_ Pirate whined, seeming disappointed in his answer. "Ye had t' have some guardian angel or somethin'- hell, I've seen much bigger ships than yers sink in these waters!"

"Perhaps I am blessed, perhaps I'm not. I am thankful the Lady of the Ocean had taken pity on me, but I credit luck over divine intervention. I've had my share of close calls, I can tell you that."

Pirate's eyes went wide again, his curiosity piqued yet again by the mariner's tales. "Really? Like what?"

"Well... you ever heard of the kingfish?"

 

 

"... And that's Cassiopeia,  holding her mirror forever."

Pirate watched Salt trace the stars of the midnight sky, rough voice giving names to what calloused hands presented. Pirate had never really cared about the stars until now, but the way Salt spoke of them like old friends drew his interest in. The mariner was more animated than Pirate had ever seen him, even as the deck grew bare and the night got older. It made him happy to see Salt so at ease,even if the night sky made him wistful. 

"What would ye have t'do to become one of yer constellations, do ye think?" Pirate mumbled, reaching a hand to grasp at the untouchable stars.

Salt looked down at him with a sad smile, then back at the sky. "I don't know- I guess you have to be honored by the gods- or punished for some crime. Either way, you'd be plastered across the night sky for the universe to see for eternity."

"I guess that's out of the question for me future, then. The life of a pirate is a path to a watery hell."

Salt knew sadness when he heard it, and he clasped a hand on the young sailor's shoulder, pulling him from his dark thoughts. "Hey, You have a good heart, Pirate... you seem like the kind who'd be immortalized in stars."

Pirate stared up at him, before swiftly hugging him, burying his face in the taller man's chest. "I don't know which god sent ye, Salt," he mumbled, a tremble in his voice. "But I thank them for this small mercy."

It took a moment for Salt to snap out of whatever shock he might have felt, putting an arm around Pirate and patting his back- he'd admit, he wasn't great with physical contact. "You're the one good thing on this boat," Salt murmured,hand settling between the cabin boy's shoulder blades. "Don't forget that."

Pirate nodded, and Salt smiled, letting go as he felt the young sailor's arms loosen around him. Pirate stepped back a few steps, then dramatically yawned. "Well, ah... We should probably head below deck, yeah? The other's are probably asleep, and the captain'll have my head if ye aren't back in the brig in the morning."

Salt nodded, taking one more look at the sky before following Pirate back down into the belly of his personal purgatory.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed, I love reading everything you guys have to say no matter what it is


	6. The quiet creaking of a rocking ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salt comes to a realization about Pirate, and things get a little rocky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont worry this is less angsty than it looks

Salt stared up at the ceiling of the brig, quiet and contemplative. As much as he liked being around Pirate, he savoured these moments alone with nothing but his thoughts- Pirate, bless his heart, didn't seem to know the definition of "quiet". His eyes wandered over the woodgrain, following the maze of whirls and knots and letting his mind wander.

How long had he been on this ship? Weeks, at least- long enough for his wounds to heal and bruises to fade, but not for the soreness to seep out of his bones. He could still remember the feeling of being in his small boat right on the water's surface, of having his oars and a harpoon in his hands, of having those simple tools be the only thing keeping him from a watery grave. He'd sailed like that for months, his own wit keeping him from the ocean's depths- and yet, only after being captured did he realize how lonely he'd been. He could still remember his island, with its red clay soil and pink salt beaches. He'd been happy there- never lonely, as he had friends and family there. He wondered what had become of them after the tsunami. He hoped they were okay. He knew that, in all likeliness, they were not. Best not to think of these things.

He heard footsteps approaching his cell, and he sat up, looking out through the bars of his prison. A familiar shape was in the dim light, holding out a bowl of stew. "Here y'are, Salty- didn't forget about you."

Salt gratefully took the soup, blowing across the surface and taking a drink. Pirate sat down, odd-eyes shining brightly in the dark like mismatched stars. Salt could remember when he was unnerved by those, but now they provided a source of warmth and comfort. "It's better than usual, did the cook change his recipe?"

"Don't thinks so- I believe he may've just run outta pickled herring, thank the heavens."

Salt smirked, finishing the soup and putting the bowl down with a clatter. "Any news from above?"

"Nuthin' good, I'm afraid," Pirate sighed, slumping a little. "The royal navy's after the Captain, so we're not gonna be docking at our next stop- I believe they're jus' gonna send someone to pick up some supplies and anchor quite a ways from shore- ye probably aren't gonna be able to get off fer a bit longer, Salt."

Salt rolled his eyes upwards, flopping back onto his back with a heavy groan. "Of course. Just my luck."

Pirate felt sorry for the sailor, before remembering something, reaching into his pocket. "Cheer up, Salty! I brought ye a little gift- took a lot to convince th' cap' to give it t'me, I hope ye like it..."

He held out something round and metal to salt. Curious, Salt took it- a compass, shiny and brass, worn around the edges but in good condition. He turned it in his hand, watching its single hand spin to stay pointing North. Its constancy made him smile in spite of himself, pocketing it carefully. "Thank you Pirate, that was very kind of you."

"Of course, Salt..." Pirate smiled, leaning into the bars of the cell, "You're the only one here that doesn't treat me like a bilgerat, you know."

"... Hey, Pirate," Salt whispered, scooching closer to the bars, "why  _do_ the crew members treat you so poorly? You seem to be quite knowledgeable around a ship."

Pirate suddenly looked nervous, averting his eyes from Salt's. "Well, it's a little...  _complicated,"_ he faltered, running his hand through his untameable hair. "I didn't do anythin', but me old man did- he ran off with a bunch o' the captain's gold and never looked back, th' sneaky bastard. I'd already been a cabin boy here, y'see, so they blame it all on me. Little Rummy's father is a crook, so he must be a crook too- that's their logic."

Salt would lie if he said wasn't flabbergasted. "What? That...  _that's_ the reason?"

"Ye alright there, Salty?"

"That's not- that's not fair! You shouldn't suffer for your father's sake!"

Pirate shrugged casually, leaning back with an unbothered grunt. "Life ain't fair, Salt. 'Specially a pirate's life- it's short and hard, and yer probably going t' get stabbed along the way, but it's a life."

"Still..."

"Hey, when I get me own ship, I won't run it like they do here- I can promise ye that, Salt."

Salt gave him a pitying look, which was a little ironic seeing as he was the one currently locked in the brig. Pirate wasn't oblivious- he could see that look in Salt's eyes, the empathy in his soul shining in those eyes. Pirate smiled slightly, leaning back forward. "Hey, I know ye don't care much fer pirates, but... When I get my ship, I'll be needin' a first mate I can trust..."

Salt tried smiling back, even as his chest ached. "I'll think your offer over, Pirate."

Pirate's smile widened into a ridiculous grin, and he laughed a little in spite of himself. "Glad to hear it, ye sea dog."

 

 

 

Salt was staring at the woodgrain ceiling again, tracing the wood grain with his eyes. Even though he tried to think of other things- his island, the sea, the Kingfish- it kept wandering back to one odd-eyed sailor with cunning in his smile. How he now knew the reason for his low rank, and how his rank didn't keep him down. How he had such grand plans for the future, how he'd put blood, sweat, and tears into making them come true. How he'd asked Salt to come along with him. 

How Salt was undeniably in love with him. 

Salt hated the fact, but it was true- he'd fallen hard and fast for the sailor, and now he couldn't get out of this grave he'd dug himself. He couldn't tell pirate, he knew that- he couldn't risk losing his one and only friend. He'd just have to keep it to himself, he guessed, until he either left this cursed ship or died on board. It was better this way.

All the same, his odd-eyed thief haunted his dreams.


End file.
